Monsoon
by Mnemosyne1211
Summary: All one night stands should be like this, otherwise it's just not worth it. Mature audience only


It's like a dirty little secret – like that bottle of rum she keeps in the bottom of her underwear drawer. It's one secret she dissects and discusses and argues over with herself. As if the solution to her problem was to spawn multiple personalities.

Sex was constantly on her mind lately. It's the only thing that fills her head anywhere she may be. She wasn't a prude; she's far from it but it bothers her that the frequency of physical depravity jolts her from her normal frame of mind almost every five minutes. When did she turn into a horny teenager? She doesn't even think she was ever like this back when she was a teenager. Scientists and doctors say that women reach their sexual peak a little bit later in life, so that could be the explanation. "Fuck." She thought. "That means I'm officially old." She hits her head on the table as a sign of frustration. "Old and horny." Wonder-fucking-ful.

She's always been larger than life, could do anything she sets her mind to, gets herself out of any and all situations and it's so unnatural for her to feel so helpless, so out of control. In some sick way, this is probably the universe trying to give her some perspective – trying to teach her a lesson. Whatever plans the fates have for her had better be fucking worth it, she thought.

She looked up from her table to check the place. It's not her usual haunt but that's exactly what she needs. The place had a distinct lack of pretty, just like her life right now, she mused. But it's what she needs, a break from normal, whatever normal is for her, that is.

When she was 18, a gypsy read her palms and said that she'll marry the man of her dreams. Now, at 35, she'd settle for the man of her nightmares. Freddie Kreuger sounds right about palatable now. Hell, anything with a dick, two legs and a pulse will do. She's not looking for romance. She's too old for that crap. She never believed in romance anyway. What she needs is something quick and dirty. Dark alley sex; dirty bathroom quickies; under the table hand jobs; against the wall-splinters on her skin sex. And if it can be delivered hot and fresh every half hour, she'd be on her knees thanking the stronger forces out there, or giving a grade A blow job – whichever works. "Oh god. Every road leads back to sex!" she moaned and promptly buries her face in her hands.

"I always thought all roads lead to the same destination."

She whopped her head to the voice that broke her reverie. It's official. The universe fucking hates her. Why else would the fates taunt her with this? The voice belonged to a gorgeous man with green eyes and sinful lips. Said lips are curved to a smirk directed at her. She gave him a patronizing smile. "Yes, it's very existential. And it's nice of you to assure me that conversing with myself in a seedy bar is anything but absurd…"

"Sweetheart, talking to yourself should be the least of your worries in a bar like this."

She snorted. "Thanks for the warning but you don't have to be all gentlemanly and look after me and my supposed virtues."

"Who said I was a gentleman?" he cocked an eyebrow "People are talking smack about me again?"

She looked at him, scrutinizing him and then looked around to check if he was with a group – a group that dared him to talk to the pathetic and obviously nutty old woman.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Your college buddies so they can already start laughing at my expense."

He barked a laugh – like the deep rumbling of a classic muscle car. "Wow. Paranoid much? I guess you don't get hit on that much."

She scowled at him and turned around to face the other way. "Asshole." She said under her breath.

"Hey, I don't mean it like that. C'mon…"

"What did you mean then? That I'd only get hit on by guys who are desperate enough to fuck anything on two feet or that I don't get hit on because I'm not pretty enough? Or I don't get hit on much because I'm too intimidating for assholes that don't have the balls or the brains?"

He pondered upon her tirade, scratched his chin and mused, like he was mulling over what she said. "Those are the only choices? Seriously?" He deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes. "Leave an old woman alone and go play with girls your own age – preferably those with food names."

"Honestly, I don't think there's any chick in the world nicknamed Buffalo wings."

In spite of her irritation, she laughed. "Cute. You're still an asshole though, but that was funny."

"Besides…" he pulled a seat to sit next to her. "I don't like girls."

This time, she was the one with the raised brow. "Really?"

"I like women." He grinned and motioned the waitress for a beer.

"Ah…" she said amusement still on her face. He looked at her and his face suddenly paled.

"You did not just think that I…because no! I don't swing that way. I mean, there was that one time but nothing happened, I assure you." His face tightened and suddenly was hard at the edges, nostrils flaring.

"If you say so…" She takes a drag from her beer.

"Let's start over, okay? Is that okay?" He waits for her reaction. She thinks for a good two seconds and extends her hand. "Evelyn Mercer."

He smiles as she shakes her hand. "Dean. Dean Van Halen." She immediately pulls her hand away.

"And just like that, this conversation is over."

"What?!" Dean said incredulously.

"Seriously? Van Halen? You've now successfully insulted me twice."

"You a rock fan?"

"Which part of 'old' did you not understand? Fine, you don't want me to know your name, that's fine."

"Winchester. It's Dean Winchester."

"Like the rifle?" He nods as he takes a swig from his bottle.

"Huh." She says, satisfied with the answer.

"So, why are you here?" he asked, while he leaned towards her. She takes in her surroundings and looks at him.

"It's a break from the normal. Why are you here?"

"This is my normal." He smirked.

"Your life seems pretty exciting."

"You could say that."

"Could you stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Smirking. Not every line should have a sexual innuendo." She frowned.

"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?" He grinned, baring teeth like a predator.

"As a matter of fact, yes. It's killing me. I came here to try to escape my sexual problems and you saunter in, like the universe is punishing me, by giving me sex in a fucking leather jacket." Crap. She did not just blurt that out.

"You think it's punishment but I think it's more of deliverance. Hi, I'm Dean Winchester, sex god. Tell me your problems." Now, he's just making fun.

"I am not telling you my sex problems." She said, aghast.

"I assure you it will all be confidential. I will be able to help, in some way or another."

She laughed. "Right, because you graduated top of your class in sex god university."

He shrugged. "I wouldn't say I was on top all the time. There are other positions too, you know."

"You're unbelievable." She said as she shook her head in disbelief.

"It has been said…" he grinned "It has been said."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Eight beers, two tequila shots, four games of pool and three Jaeger bombs later, they find themselves in the parking lot. She's fiddling with her keys and he's got his hands stuffed in his jacked pockets.

"So…" she said as she pointed to her sedan. "This is me."

Dean cocked his head to the impala. "That's me."

"Nice car."

"Thanks." Wow. This is almost as awkward as a first date in junior high.

"Dean… thank you. I had fun tonight. I'm sorry I thought you were an asshole."

"I'm only an asshole on the first meeting. Once you get to know me, I turn into a fucking jerk." He smiled.

She let out a small laugh. "Okay. I guess this is good night then."

"Yeah… long day tomorrow…"

"It was nice to meet you." She put her hand out and he shook it.

He made his way to the driver's side of his car before she turned her back to get into hers. She started thinking about how long she'll have to jerk off to her fantasies of this fuck that never happened. Maybe she got all the signals wrong, maybe it's her stupid hormones but she really thought something was there.

Apparently, Jesus wasn't coming – at least that's what she thought when he walked to his car. But then, he came back, in a rush and spun her around to pin her against her car door and kissed her. Jesus was in the building, laying his hands on her and bestowing her with this miracle. So, when he finally let her go, she breathed out and sighed a soft "Amen."

"Told you I was your deliverance." He breathed in her ear.

"Dean, I don't want anything else but sex. I hope that's okay…" her voice was wavering.

"Don't go romantic on me now, Evie…" He said as he nipped her jaw.

"Evelyn. Call me Evie again and I'll kick you in the nads." She shuddered as his hand found her breast and started kneading.

"Do you have to be somewhere tomorrow? Like early day and shit?"

"No, not really. Why?"

"Because I'd like to fuck you until next Tuesday."

She laughed. "Let's settle for tonight first."

He grabbed her waist and practically dragged her to the backseat of the impala. She slid to the middle and he promptly straddled her, kissing her. There was nothing romantic about the kiss. It was all need, now, lust and want. It was spit sharing, tongue fighting, teeth clacking and biting.

His hands were expertly undoing her blouse, fingers sure and steady. She was undoing the button of his pants and started palming his hard on.

She moved from under him, trying to switch places to which Dean gladly obliged. As soon as he sat, she began pulling his pants down, liberating his fully erect cock.

"Oh my god." She whispered. "It's beautiful."

"You don't have to flatter it Evie. I think it already appreciates you."

"Asshole." She grinned and promptly held his stiff member and put it in her eager mouth.

Dean's head hit the backseat's edge and he let out a strangled moan. It took him a good five seconds before he gathered his senses and looked at the event going on below his waist.

She was good – more than good. Dean was feeling pretty good already, but damn if the sight of this didn't make him blow his load right then and there. Her eyes were half lidded and her gorgeous plump lips slick with spit and pre cum sliding along his shaft. Her tongue was doing this flat slip-slide on the underside of his cock and performs that quick but hard flick at the slit. Her hand was going up and down to the places where her mouth and tongue left off and she does a twist with her wrist that sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head. To his surprise, she puts a finger in her mouth as she's sucking him and he swears to god, it's six kinds of a fucking miracle that he doesn't die right there.

Just as he got used to her finger, it was gone. He let out a gasp and a sigh but let out a quick "what the fuck?!" when the missing finger found his asshole and was pushed in. It was a new and weird sensation, like his brain couldn't figure what sensation he should be concentrating on: the sweet mind blowing blow job or the burning pain on h—

"Fuck, yeah…" Ladies and gents, we have prostate.

She popped his cock out from her mouth with an obscene sound. "I think it's real classy how you go from 'what the fuck?!' to 'fuck, yeah…' in five seconds flat."

He knows he should give out a wacky or smart ass retort but he was too busy feeling this new feeling that all he could say was "Fuck, don't stop…"

She let out a quiet chuckle but continued to explore and touch the nub with her finger. "Dean?" She calls, voice rough and hunger. "Can I fuck you now?"

He swallows and nods. He grabs his wallet from the floor to get the condom while she slinks off her pants and panties. She crouches over him for a while as he sheathes his cock with the rubber. As soon as he was done, he roughly grabs her and positions her right on top of him. She impales herself on him and they both groan at the contact.

"Fuck baby, you're so hot and wet for me." He crooned.

"I was hot and wet even before you came along." She bit out as she roughly rode him.

"You were gonna slut it out with a trucker dude in that bar?"

"I was gonna fuck all of them and make you watch." She ground out and rolled her hips.

Suddenly, she was roughly lifted up and slammed onto the seat, her head hitting the door handle. Dean was immediately on top of her and he pushed into her, hard. His face was dark, eyes full of lust and there was a certain kind of possessiveness in his movement. "How about I fuck you and make them all watch? How about I put my cock in every hole you've got while they jack off in front of you?" He punctuated every other word with a thrust of his hips.

"Is that all you've got?"

Dean gets kink. He's about as kinky as an afro but what he doesn't like is a challenge, a test of his prowess. "Lady, you'd better be ready for what you're asking for."

She smiled and gave a teasing wink "I don't think ladies let complete strangers fuck them in the backseat of a car."

He laughed. "I guess they don't."

"Are you going to discuss the fine merits of my unladyness or are we fucking?"

"Fucking. Definitely fucking."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They fucked in the car. She gave him another blowjob while he was driving to the motel. They broke a lamp, ripped a sheet and definitely created a new wall decoration to the shape of a headboard. They're sprawled on the carpet, on their backs, all breathless and sweaty.

"I think I've got a rug burn" Dean whined.

"I could kill for a cigarette right now."

"With all the things you put in your mouth, you want to suck on a cancer stick?"

"Hey, your dick can be deemed as a deadly weapon!"

"I just fucked you six ways to Sunday. You don't have to flatter me."

"I didn't know you could be – flattered, I mean."

He shrugged. "Yeah…well."

"As soon as I get the full use of my legs back, I got to go."

"Thought you didn't have an early day?"

"I don't." She propped herself with her elbows and looked at him. "But I'm saving you from having to come up with a weird and forced brush off like you've got memorized for every kind of girl." She grinned.

"I don't have the lines memorized!" He indignantly huffed. She laughed as she lay down again. After a minute of quiet breathing, she poked him on his shoulder. "Get on the bed, unless you're planning to sleep on the floor."

Dean crawled to the bed lazily. Evelyn started picking her clothes from all over the room. By the time she got dressed, he was long gone into dreamland. She quickly gathered her things and left the motel room with a silent click of the door and smile on her face.

"All one night stands should be like this" she murmured. "Otherwise, it just ain't worth it."

-fin-


End file.
